Maybe One Day
by mr jensen
Summary: Small Brooklyn fic. Nothing else to say, a "spur of the moment" fic.


Heyo, PD here with some weird thing xD! Anyway, my first story about Brooklyn's psychoses. Doesn't take place in the BB time line, but I watched Gothica last night and it made me want to write something. Yeah. So here. No flames because I'm insecure about myself.

Warning: Um. Nothing really too bad. Brooklyn-ness if your afraid of Brooklyn xD;

**xx**

I opened my eyes. White. Of course, every morning I wake to whiteness...why does it keep surprising me? I guess I try and pretend that I wake up to the things I dream about. But I know that will never happen. I'm stuck here, in the whiteness. The lady in white helps me up, as if I can't walk on my own. I let her. I don't speak. She whispers in my ear as if I need reassurance about what is going to happen. As if I can't comprehend that the same thing happens everyday. But I let her.

She leads me into the small room, with nothing but a metal bed and a small window. I lay down, like I do every day. The lady in white says I'm getting better at following directions. I don't reply. She leaves the room and I lie there on the cold metal, waiting for the man in white. The doctor, as they called him.

He walks in and smiles, like he does everyday. He's carrying his usual black briefcase, like every doctor has. He places it at the end of the table near my feet and opens it. I know what's in there. Special medication just for me. To help me, they say. I let them. I let them try to help. He takes out the first needle, prepares it, and tells me not to panic. I don't. He sinks the small tip into my skin, and injects the clear liquid into my body. He smiles again, and asks me if that wasn't bad. It wasn't, but I don't reply. I never reply. He tells me to sit up, and I do, as he hands me a cup of colorful pills, and a glass of water. I swallow the pills all at once, and drink all the water. The doctor congratulates me for taking them without a fuss, and tells me I can go now. The lady in white comes back in and helps me out of the room, and I let her.

We walk down the clean hallway, the sounds of the other patients and their different problems ringing through-out it. Screams, laughter, crying, and talking, all at once, forming a buzz of plain noise in my ears.

We reach my room again as I am helped into my day clothes. I am not allowed back asleep after my medication, which makes me feel sad. I let them dress me in white pants and shirt, before taking me outside. They know I like outside. The animals. The lady lets me sit on the bench as birds, squirrels and other random animals come to me. They can't understand why I attract so many.

I smile. A small bird lands on my shoulders and chirps happily. I stroke it softly, humming along to it's song, before allowing it to fly away. I stare into the sky after it, wondering what it would be like to fly high like that. To have wings and sore so freely. Then I frown, knowing that I will never get to fly. The lady sees me frown and rushes over. I tell her I'm alright before standing up to go look at the flowers.

Time passes fast, like it always does, and I am forced to go back inside. I say goodbye to my animal friends before being led into the cold building. They ask if I want to watch some Television, but I don't. They bring me into the quite room, where I can read or draw. I decide to draw.

I draw myself with pretty white wings, flying free with the birds. I am laughing, for I am happy. No walls to confine me, no lady to hold my hand. I am normal.

I feel tears come out of my eyes as I think of this. The lady asks what's wrong and I say I just want to be normal. She sighs, and hugs me close. I cry in her arms. She tells me that maybe one day.

Maybe.

I stop crying and push her away, going back to drawing. I am angry now. I color over my pretty white wings with black. Black wings, like a raven. I use all the black crayon and color the sky. Darkness. Like when I close my eyes. I crumple up the paper and say I don't want to draw anymore, and that I just want to go back to my room of whiteness. They nod and lead me back. They open the bar door and lead me in. I crawl into my bed and curl up. I face the wall, away from everyone else, as silent tears fall down my face. I hear the door close and I sigh.

Alone.

I get up and walk to the small desk in the corner, and open my journal.

_January 4, 2005._

_Again I wake up in the white room. I wish I could fly out of here. I am sad._

_January 7, 2005._

_They stuck the needle in me again. It doesn't hurt as bad as the first time. That's good I guess. I am okay today._

_March 5, 2005._

_I hate this place! The screams, the cries. It's too much. I just want to be free. Damn it all! I hate it! I am angry_

_March 15, 2005._

_They have animals here, outside. I make friends with them. They are the only ones that understand me, I know it. I am happy today_

I close the journal, and walk back to my bed. I curl up again, looking out the door, as many people in white walk by. Some smile and wave, and I smile back. I close my eyes, and dream.

I dream...that I have my white wings. I am free! Flying in clear blue sky. So many colors swarming around me, and I smile. I hear my own laughter, and it sounds wonderful. I soar higher and higher, through clouds and beyond a rainbow, before stopping and looking down. Up here, I know I am free, down there, I am not. I am contained in a box down there. Squished by laws. But not up here. I am free up here.

But everything changes in an instant. I recognize this. It is my drawing, and as if someone had a crayon, the sky is slowly colored black. I am scared. My wings. They turn black and I am filled with hatred. I hate everything! I scream my anger and sadness to the world below. I want nothing more then death. For myself, and for everyone.

Then I wake up. Cold sweat pours down my body as I bolt up and look around. I feel around my shoulders, half expecting myself to have wings. Nothing.

I sigh and lay back down.

I am stuck here. I know that.

But like the lady said. Maybe one day I can be free.

Maybe one day I will fly.

**xEndx**

well that's it...R&R!

xPhoenix


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